Reginald slipped through the forest as silently as a mouse, disturbing nothing as me moved. His blunderbuss was by his side and held a charge ready to fire. He was dressed in a green great coat with muted black buttons and a brown hunting suit. A short sword was on his belt. His long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the base of his neck and his handsome face was clean shave, except for thin sideburns which stopped at the bottom of his ears. He sniffed the air, making sure he kept down wind from his prey.

It had been a fortnight that he had been hunting, taking three stags and as many geese and small game. Still, his true prey had been illusive; the white doe. She was legend, and had been spotted again a month before. It was this which had brought him to the Enchanted Forest. He was here to make history, but hunting her down.

He had caught glimpses of her flashing through the brown trunks, but she was ever a set ahead of him. For a day now he had not slept, trying to keep up with her. He did not know how she still had the energy to run from him. It was as if she knew that she was being hunted, though that was impossible. He was too good a hunter to allow that.